


Color Spectrum

by myria_chan



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Color Blind, Alternate Universe - Future Fish, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 08:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3440771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myria_chan/pseuds/myria_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Free! Rare Pairs Week | Sousuke Yamazaki was never the one for destiny and one true love things, until a vibrant shade of yellow came into his line of vision and his world imploded in a kaleidoscopic spectrum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Color Spectrum

**Author's Note:**

> Because every pairing deserves a Color Blind!AU.

* * *

He existed in a universe where true love was supposed to be discovered the very moment you realize the world’s brilliance around you; every color was heightened, shades more pronounced, distinct, phonated in the most intricate of tones and vibrancy in chromatic palettes, compositions and spectrum.

Sousuke found it sickening that the world still manages to find a way to romanticize disabilities in the most bizarre of manners. Couldn’t a person just be scientifically color blind and still be functionally normal?

He simply couldn’t believe his parents when they told him about soulmates and destiny, that the color palettes and spectrums would coalesce once he met his one true love—just meet, not fall in love with him, nor does he have to love that person back—a story one for the fairy tales and magical kisses.

He wasn’t like those starry-eyed know-it-alls who saw the world through the spectra of black, white and gray. Sousuke could see the colors. But there was one particular hue he couldn’t name: yellow.

In the color chart, it was a blank scale of white and nothingness, extending in range rendering him incapable of deciphering blue from green or orange from pink. Red and blue were the predominantly intensified tones since birth, and violet hues were murkier sort of unappealing to the barely existent shade of yellow.

Being a natural curious and skeptic, he applied his time in understanding his condition through a more thoroughly researched and scientifically based deduction. His frequent trips to the library lead him to the nature of his condition—Tritanopia, a rare hereditary complication caused by a missing component in the color receptors of his eyes.  

This was probably the reason why he was hang-out best with Rin. Rin Matsuoka was red and vermillion with undertones of carmine and scarlet Sousuke could easily detect even through closed eyes. Sousuke understood him best because he could differentiate Rin’s colors best.

Rin was an indignant amaranth when agitated, burning lava and cardinal red when angered, a frosted combination of maroon and carnelian when bored, and muted tones of auburn and burgundy when saddened or lonesome. When happy, he was a vibrant mix of every shade of red there was; Sousuke found it too blinding to focus on him during their younger years, back in the days when Rin smiled his earnest without a care in the world.

That was Sousuke’s first taste of love—the unrequited one, settling in his heart like a heavy anchor.   

And it was not a bother. He wouldn’t let go of it even if he wanted to. His love for Rin was from his own volition, forged by their own brand of friendship, developed by their mutual understanding of each other’s nuances and exceptionality. His love for Rin made him realize that there were things worth pursuing, preserving because it’s genuine and true; even if it was not coated with forever and destiny.

So there was no absolute reason to look for happily ever after.

Fate was something he associated with convenience, something people hold on to because they’re afraid of trying things their own way. There was no scientific relevance to define it or a theoretical approach to expound on the subject matter; simply the general flow of the universe and all in its governance.

Perhaps his opinion of it would change once he did find his soulmate, if he really had one. But that was neither here nor there, and Sousuke wasn’t willing to bet on the unknown.

But the fact of the matter was fate was a vindictive bitch, and it enjoyed screwing Sousuke’s logic 24/7.

* * *

He saw it for the very first time over a picket fence: his soulmate climbing over a picket fence, garbed in an eye catching combination of black and white overalls that reminded him of prison and everything wrong in the universe.

Sousuke was a policeman stationed at the precinct of seaside Iwatobi. Their main job was to secure order and protection for the denizens of the district—nothing too extreme or hardcore. A typical day involved an eight-hour shift of assistance to the elderly, collection of lost and found items, filing of crime reports.

He joined to police force because Rin wanted to follow his father’s footsteps, and he had to make sure the firebrand didn’t get himself killed in the line of duty, but as the years passed he began to realize that he was built for this kind of dedicated work. People sleep better at night, prowl more confidently on the streets knowing that the good law-abiding officers of their country were there to be of service in any way they could.

There he was, called in the line of duty, when a brightly colored fragment entered his line of vision: a dazzling shade of yellow—a passing blur carving distortion to his otherwise peacefully rubicund biosphere.

It was breathtaking—overwhelming, even, like diving into water the first time. There’s this intense pressure, the air being dragged out of his lungs, and eyes stinging from the contact with the water. His head was pounding. His ears were ringing. His throat was dry and tight; he could feel his heart beating against his ribs, and in the midst of the entire corporeal catastrophe, there was this overpowering sense of contentment, and he opened his eyes to a sight he’d never seen before.

From the other side of the road, the guy mirrored the exact same expression of his face, and fell down flat on his face.

“There he is! Catch the thief!”

Sousuke stood there frozen by a passing minute, before his system reset and hit autopilot. Bringing out a pair of handcuffs, he approached the culprit with caution.

It was time for a date with destiny—in an interrogation room, of all places.

\--

“Those are your one true loves?” Gou tried very hard to contain the humor in her tone, to act with poise and grace, to be the paragon of support and unbiased judgment, and failed—reducing to a fit of melodic hysterics; laughing so hard tears were brimming in her eyes that she had to escape the room once more to compose herself—her laughter escalating even behind closed doors.

The duo did not share the humor, arms crossed over their chests and eyes narrowed to study the couple of delinquents at the other side of the room.

Now that he acquired his not-much-needed color perceptive eyesight, Sousuke could not help but think that everything was too damn bright. Everything was drenching with vibrancy and _color_. He couldn’t even bear to look at Rin.

“The bowl-cut’s yours?” he asked Rin, who nodded dismissively.

There were two colors that Rin could code: grey and blue. It was exactly the reason why Rin gravitated to the seas and the snows, why his closest companions bleed the shades of those colors. It would figure his soulmate had those colors all along.

“It took me a full second,” Rin recalled, deep in thought, eyes on the polite half of the invocated party—a gangly weed who barely reached his chin, with hair the color of moonshine and eyes of the clear sky. His personality was as meek as his colors: subservient, barely noticeable; his only striking quality was his eyes. Sousuke always had a certain partiality to the color of blue, like Rin’s gangly weed’s eyes. They reminded him of spring—early spring—when the last of the snow melted and everything sparkled.

“I saw leaves. It just had to be _leaves_ ,” Rin continued his tale in annoyance and wonderment. “We stared at each other for a long time. It was awkward. And then he realized I’m a cop and dashed.”

Sousuke could imagine that scenario in his head. “He’s cute.”

“He also has a mean left hook.” Rin pulled his hair back to show where the bruise was forming on his cheekbone.

That made his friend grin. “I like him,” said with much authenticity he could muster, seeing the squirt in a new light.

Rin muttered a terse word under his breath.

“What?” Sousuke teased again, “Twenty four hours haven’t even passed and you reserve the right to be jealous?”

Rin garbled incoherently, heat crawling up from his throat to his face, rendered speechless and horribly embarrassed. Rin had always thoroughly rejected Sousuke’s pragmatic view of their kaleidoscopic reality. Rin shared his sentiment about the inanity of isolating every romantic disposition in favor of a random encounter of with a total stranger, but in his heart, there was a special place for destiny and all that jazz.

“What about little boy wonder?” Rin slid the sarcastic remark thorough his teeth.

This time, it’s Sousuke turn to curse.

The penultimate trip back to the precinct was met with an exuberance of physical restraints, unheeded directives to preserve silence, misguided sense of enthusiasm over indictment, and obligatory overuse of behavioral anger management techniques, care of Sousuke’s _unbearably_ perky ray of sunshiny delight. People often associated yellow with brightness, though this one might just be that special case.

He is orange, safron orange, the kind that can blind people through constant exposure; and pure gold—shining, shimmering, lustrous gold that was far too blinding, far too noisy, far too _everything_ for Sousuke’s taste. Apparently, _he_ is the mastermind of the brilliant heist—great, insert obligatory eyeball roll for the sarcasm here—not that he need further convincing that the little ball of sunshine was repeatedly dropped in the head as a child.

Gou chose this moment to re-enter the room, her residual laughter bubbling at the corners of her smile as she studied the pair of ruffled enforcers. “Well,” she started, “who will do the questioning?”

The two of them were silent: eerie, wary silent. Until finally Rin suggested, “Rock Paper Scissors.”

Sousuke nodded. “Best of three.”

“Really,” chides Gou, actively judging their methodologies of decision making with a raise of an eyebrow. “It’s not as if there is a requirement for either of you to marry them, much less date them.” Gou could speak for herself. Her soulmate is their current Chief of Police, as she never batted an eyelash over his advancements.

The men paid her no heed, opting to follow their ridiculous ritual of stretches. Glancing up to the heavens, she shook her head for men and their lack of balls when it came about measly conversations. “I’ll do it,” she said, causing both men to pause.

One minute into the room and Gou was ready to call for back-up. The perpetuator: Sousuke’s ball of sunshiny delight. The kid had a fondness for cute girls and skirts, both of which defined Gou. Rin was already out of the chamber and into the interrogation room before he could even say, “Let’s date!”

“Sousuke,” Rin practically growled his name, restraining the flailing firecracker against the table. “Deal with him.”

Sousuke took a deep breath. He needed it.

\--

Rin had whisked his sister and his captive away in favor of a more interrogation-inducing area, leaving Sousuke alone in audience with the _creature_. He brought with him a bowl of tonkatsu. Maybe hunger would divert the imminent danger away from his person. A man could only hope.

The _creature_ instantly brightened, as if that it’s possible, and Sousuke found himself closing his eyes again. When he opened them, he found himself face to face with destiny.

For consolation, his soulmate is easy on the eyes: mane of auburn locks helplessly tousled about his heart-shaped face; a pair of artfully winged eyebrows daintily arched to crease his high forehead than the space above a pointy nose; thick crop of curled eyelashes no man in the world deserved to have; rounded cheeks mapping his olive-toned skin; and lips that never knew the lines of a frown.

And then, he opened his mouth, “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“No.” The answer had always been absolute. Crossing the fellow, he took the interrogator seat and set the food on the table.

His soulmate followed—no, sprinted to his direction and took the opposite seat, elbows on the table and hands to his chin. “How about second sight?”

“No.”

“Third sight?” He _dared_ move closer, their breaths almost intermingling.

Sousuke could but stare. “Are you for real?”

The man barely acknowledged the sarcasm, and continued on with a dreamy smile, “Yes. Yes I am. How about you? Are you for real?”

That was it. Just like that, the shades of room heightened to a transcendent luminescence, causing Sousuke to back down a bit and cursed the heavens for his overly reactive visual perception. The world was fine and dandy this morning. Now each color was far too enhanced and far too sharp for his convenience. How could people live like this?

He glared at the culprit. “Don’t fall in love with me.”

To his surprise, the culprit did not quiver, did not frown, did not jostle him with a whine or a stealthy complain over his indignation.

Instead came a smile, joshing at the corners of earnest lips to display their fullest potential on a full-throttle grin; not simply to showcase amusement nor to exhibit surprise, but to consider, to gauge his method of thinking.

And to his surprise, the soulmate agreed. “Let’s be friends,” he let the last word trail off, eyes darting to Sousuke’s nameplate, and finished, “Yamazaki-san.”

Sousuke passed the bowl of tonkatsu in response.

Taking the bowl of tonkatsu, he split the chopsticks apart and ranted. “My name is Momotarou Mikoshiba. You can call me Momo for short. My hobby is hunting for stag beetles. My favorite quote is, “Even Homer sometimes nods.” My favorite dish is friend eggs. I love vongole spaghetti. My favorite chocolate bar is chocolate pudding flavored. My favorite burger is triple-cheese burger. The first place I wash when I take a bath is—”

Sousuke held up a hand, and brought up the other item he had around: the squirt’s folder.

“Well, well, well,” Momo smirked, biting a bit of meat. “Someone did his research.”

Sousuke resisted the urge to roll his eyeballs. With careful deliberation, he flipped to the folder open for appearance sake, having already reviewed it. Clean record. “It says here you are an alumna of the local university, finishing Biomedicinal Science majoring in Marine Life Immunology. Graduated top of the class. Why is a promising youngster such as you caught floundering around the fences of the thieving world?”

“I really wanted a head start on the family business,” wasn’t the answer Sousuke was looking for, but luckily (or nay) Momo expounded on the subject matter. “My mother was a phenomenal phantom thief during her time. She had all sorts of crazy adventures and coolest gigs imaginable. Then, she met my dad and settled down. I figured, you know, since I’m of age and had appeased my brother’s mandate over collegiate affairs, I’ll take up the mantle and continue her legacy.”

“As a phantom thief?”

“The Sea Otter Phantom Thief.” He brandished the acclaimed title, putting down his chopsticks to flaunt his striped outfit. “Uniforms,” he said as a matter-of-factly, “so people can tell we’re professionals. Police enforcers, health care dudes, firemen, even salary men have uniforms. Why shouldn’t thieves?”

“I believe it defeats the purpose of stealth.”

“Figured that too.” He nodded his head as if he was fully digesting the inanity of his concept. Or so, Sousuke thought. “But get this. Since we’re posing as jail breakers, people have no idea what crimes we can commit. Are we serial killers? Are we arsonists? Are we kidnappers with tragic backstories of our own rhetorical children being kidnapped? No one can really tell for sure.”

“So you attempted to rob a bank on broad daylight as a debut?”

“You’re smart!” Momo said proudly. “I like that!”

Sousuke felt the necessity to raise an eyebrow. “Are you taking this seriously?”

“ _Very_.”

Sousuke thought the squirt was either incredibly creative or incredibly stupid, or both, tapping his pen impatiently against the clear file. For all he knew, this is one of those devious pranks kids around the block commit to gather attention. He made a mental note to look over the mom’s file just to be sure the kid’s not lying. Clearing the back of his throat, he willed his entire being to continue with the questioning; hoping to arrive at a probable cause that might be admissible at court—if there was truly one. “The other kid: Aiichirou Nitori. What’s your relationship with him?”

“We’re partners, but not in _that_ way.” He winked. Sousuke dutifully ignored that. “Senpai hangs around to make sure I don’t hurt myself, or land into bad company.”

“Like the Yakuza?”

Momo bobbed his head as if there was no tomorrow. “My brother wouldn’t like it, being the Chief of Police and all.”

Sousuke could hardly believe his ears. “Your brother’s a what?”

“Chief Mikoshiba.” The squirt shrugged, passing the emptied bowl of his lunch without a care in the world. “Can I ask for seconds?”

Sousuke pushed the bowl aside. “By Chief Mikoshiba, you don’t mean the Chief _Seijurou_ Mikoshiba?”

“The one and only,” Momo beamed in acknowledgement. “Can I ask for seconds?”

Very slowly, Sousuke rose from his seat and trudged to where a slim phone hung near the doorway. He reached for the handle and pressed on the talk button. “Bring in the Chief.” Calmly, he replaced the handle back to its receiver, and settled back to his seat as if he had never left at all; on his face was a mask of pure and utter composure, the mask a volcano would wear before catastrophic eruption.

Sousuke closed his eyes and counted the seconds for pandemonium to arrive.

By the seventeenth count, he heard it: the sound of thundering footsteps, the same sounds the cavaliers would have made to the location of the Holy Grail; so loud and boisterous, it could awaken the dead. Then it halted; the knob turning momentarily after and Seijurou Mikoshiba entered the interrogation room in full glory.  

“Whaley!”

“Chief.” Sousuke graced him with a curt nod.

Momo arched an eyebrow. “Whaley?”

“Momotarou!”

“’niichan!”

That was the entire introduction Sousuke needed, as the loudest personalities he had the pleasure of sharing oxygen with enveloped each other in a fierce, tight, bear-hug, twirling around the room for the heck of it. Sousuke did not need the colors to see the resemblance: the sharp eyes, the facial bone structure, the penchant of tearing logic apart to barely recognizable pieces and sending them to burn to smithereens against the spiraling flares of the sun.

Mikoshiba—Sousuke underlined the surname, drew a circle around it. He counted from ten to one, pleading the merciful heavens to grant him another dose of patience before venturing on to the world of the oblivious and loud.

Clearing his throat, Sousuke decided to break the bubble. “Chief, hate to cut your little reunion but your brother is a self-acclaimed phantom thief.”

“You actually did it!”  Seijurou had the conviction of an overtly proud brother, ruffling his brother’s already messy hair.

Sousuke just had to reiterate the concern of their situation. “Chief, your brother is a self-acclaimed _phantom thief_.”

“It keeps the police force employed,” his superior answered squarely, dignified, completely ignoring the fact that his brother was spiraling down the world of low lives over his watch. Reading the profound confusion on his subordinate’s expression, Seijurou connected the dots and laughed that obnoxious laughter that never once gave a damn.

“Was that why you called me? And here I thought it was for big emergency.”

A second, much lighter voice joined the glee. Sousuke rubbed his aching temples, suppressing a headache. He needed coffee. _Badly_.

\--

Suffice to say the precinct was letting the duo go with a fair warning. They had no weapons, never bothered to hide their identities, and nothing was stolen. The only evidence they have was motive, which given the lackluster capabilities of their supposed crime doers, might not be admissible to court by the Prosecutor’s standards. 

“Just stay out of trouble,” was Sousuke’s final piece of advice, to which Momo made a face, seemingly touched.

“You care.”

Aiichirou obligingly stabbed him with his elbow for that remark, flashing an apologetic smile at the two officers for all the inconvenience. “We’ll be careful next time.”

“And burn the outfits,” was Rin’s follow-up, cringing.

“Will do.” Aiichirou smiled softly while Momo pouted.

“But I like our outfits.”

“I like our outfits too, but I don’t like getting caught by policemen, Momo-kun.”

“We can hear you,” Rin interrupted the pitiable excuse of whispered chitchatting in favor of a stern warning these two scoundrels were in dire need of. “We’ll be keeping in touch so don’t you two try anything funny. If you two pull this stunt again, you’re really in it, you hear?”

“Y-Yes sir,” said Aiichirou, a little stammer mingling into his agreement, gaze fixated on Rin; perhaps too fixated that when others began to notice, he diverted his attention to his feet.

“You like him,” teased Momo.

Aiichirou’s head shot up quickly and from his lips spew words of pure incoherence of babbling proportions in a busied attempt to make light of the subject.

Perceptive, it was a nice trait. Sousuke allowed his mind to complement the little scoundrel. Worried that he too would be caught staring, he averted his gaze. Too late, Rin had his eyes and knowing smile on him. Thankfully, he knew how to counter that.

“He likes you,” Sousuke said, letting the words be as audible for everyone to hear.

“Do you like me?” Momo suddenly piped in, bouncing into his personal space too close, their lips almost brushed. It was turning into a habit.

“You make me question the universe.”

“It’s because I’m a dude right? If I was a girl, you would totally be digging me, ‘cause I’d be digging you.” Momo didn’t take the offhanded comment the bad way. Sousuke doubted anything will.

“We should go,” Aiichirou interrupted, not at peace as to where this conversation was headed. The sun hadn’t even fully risen, and it was already an extremely long day for all of them.

Rin nodded almost immediately. “Go, far far away.”

With that, the unlikely pair of would-be criminals left the precinct, their lack of presence restoring the room’s customary hushed peaceful ambiance. The two officers moved back to their stations, burying themselves with reports and filing, waiting for an eventful case to miraculously rain on them that day.

As the first respondents of the task force, they were required to be on top of their toes for any reported emergency cases. Not that they have a luxury of those. Iwatobi was a generally peaceful town. The only source of excitement they had were the occasional explosions on Science Laboratory by the main road, but usually the Fire Department had that covered.

“So that’s a blush,” Rin remarked out of the sudden, amused, recalling how to heat crawled from Aiichirou’s neck to his face. Shaking his head, he went on to start with this morning particularly eventful incident, whistling his good mood to the world despite himself.

From his desk, Sousuke felt the need to accuse him. “You like him.”

Rin did not even bother to deny. “He’s my soulmate. I will, as they say, inevitably like him.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Like you don’t.”

“What do you mean?”

Rin spared him a glance. “You reacted. That’s not an everyday event.”

Sousuke returned the gaze squarely. “You met _him_.”

Rin considered that thought for a moment. “Point taken.”

Granted, a person only has one soulmate. As denizens of this paradoxical existentiality, they were not blessed with an opportunity to experiment on their reactions to spontaneous ambush attacks of bright flashes of colors.

The headache he had successfully suppressed was coming back with a vengeance. It was time for that coffee.

“Still, you reacted,” he heard Rin say as he was about cross the pantry. He scowled at his friend, who bounced the threatening daggers of doom and destruction with laughter.

Sousuke deemed his reaction to meeting Momotarou Mikoshiba blasé and civil per soulmate standards—just the same reaction he’d have with a regular person, just with more swirling shades and rues.  

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> It's a horrible ending, I know. But a clear, real plot is beyond my reach as of the moment, and life hasn't making itself easy again. :D But I do have a plot in mind... Just not in a near, soonest happening... Sorry... Hope you all still like it!
> 
> Thank you very much for reading. Please support the Free! Rare Pair Week! Have a great time, everyone! Bless you!


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